5 Times House Didn't Cure Methos
by wren10514
Summary: written for crossovers100 on LJ. House and Methos seem to just keep running into each other...
1. Chapter 1

Crossover: HL/House

Characters: Methos (John Smith), House (aged 8)

For prompt: 016 Purple

Rating: G

Spoilers: for season 3 House ep. "one day, one room" if you squint really hard.

Summary: the first time Methos helps him.

A/N: First in the "5 times House didn't cure Methos" series.

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"Hey are you alright?"

The boy flinched away, looking up at him with dry, red eyes, cupping his hand to his chest. Methos had seen the dog take a snap at him, seen him step back hurriedly from the face and gone over to check he was ok. Even if medicine had moved on a bit in the past hundred years or so he still new how to take care of a dog bite.

"What's your name?"

"…Greg…"

"Hi Greg, I'm John. Want to show me your hand? I won't hurt you I promise."

Warily Greg stretched out his hand. It was bleeding a little from a series of scratches where he had been caught by the animal's teeth, but none of them were very deep: he must have pulled away pretty fast. It was going to bruise nicely where he'd hit his elbow pulling his arm out from between the bars of the gate. A haze of purple and red was already showing in a line just missing his funny bone.

"That's not so bad. Make sure your mum cleans it up and bandages it for you when you get home though. Dog's mouths are really dirty and you don't want it to get infected."

"'S'ok, I'll do it right."

"Not your mum? Your dad?"

Greg's eyes turned cold. "I wasn't supposed to be there."

Methos went to say something more, but the boy cut him off.

"I'll clean it right. Thanks mister."

And with that he ran off down the street.


	2. Blue

Crossover: HL/House

Characters: Methos (John Smith), House (aged 14)

For prompt: 015 Blue

Rating: G

Spoilers: for season 3 House ep. "one day, one room" if you squint really hard.

Summary: the second time Methos had it under control.

A/N: Second in the "5 times House didn't cure Methos" series.

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Okinawa's traffic was a nightmare. Obviously the Japanese hadn't heard of crosswalks. His dad had been posted at the base here for a couple of months and he was only now starting to get the hang of crossing the road while cars zipped by on all sides as if he wasn't there.

He had felt sure he was going to get hit on the way here despite how late it was. His friend was still in hospital after his fall and, since he didn't feel like going home to be berated by his father yet again for letting such a stupid accident happen, Greg had come into the centre of town looking for somewhere that might serve an underaged American kid.

It wasn't going well.

He was just about to give it up and go home when he saw a guy run right out into the road ahead of him and get hit by a bright blue Honda that didn't stick around to see if he was ok.

People started to crowd around the fallen man as soon as he hit the ground, but despite the blood oozing down his face he was up and going before anyone had a chance to stop him.

Greg was impressed in a disbelieving kind of way. There was no way anyone could just get up after being hit like that. If he could find the guy he might be able to help. He could take him to hospital, be the one who saved the day and stop his dad from teaching him a lesson…

Who was he kidding. He could never stop his dad doing that.

But he was going to try anyway. He cut up a street he was pretty sure crossed the same alley the guy had run down. Only two false turns later and there he was, covered in blood slumped next to a dumpster.

He was very still.

Greg hadn't been expecting this: what did he do if the guy was already dead? He approached cautiously, as if caution could prevent the man on the ground from being dead…

A loud gasp made Greg jump. Whoever this man was he obviously wasn't dead: he was coughing now, standing up, only to lean over and spit blood and god knew what else into the gutter. He picked up a blood-stained sword from the ground and settled it inside his long coat.

Greg only felt a little satisfied when the mystery man saw him there and jumped as high as he had only moments before.

"Hello."

He had a strange accent: slightly British and oddly familiar.

"Hi."

"I'm fine."

"So I can see." He was right. He didn't look in any pain at all. "Except for the blood."

"It's nothing."

"Right…"

"Well, I better get going."

The man walked passed him and Greg suddenly remembered where he knew that voice, that face, from.

"Hey I know you!"

"I doubt it."

"John! When I was younger I got bit by a dog and you told me to make sure I cleaned it properly."

John turned to face him. "You have a good memory," he said with a smug smile. "And I told you to get your mum to clean it."

"What are you doing in Japan?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he glanced passed Greg down the alley the way he had come. "But I've gotta go."

John waved off-handedly as began to jog away.

"See you around some time!"


	3. White

Crossover: HL/House

Characters: Methos (Adam Pierson), House (aged 22)

For prompt: 019 White

Rating: G

Summary: the third time Methos really just wanted his organs back.

A/N: third in the "5 times House didn't cure Methos" series.

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Int. university dissection room - night

A gasp from the gurney makes House smile into the journal he's reading. He puts the journal to one side, careful to keep his place.

_**house**_

Welcome back.

Adam blinks, clearing his throat and trying to ignore the taste in his mouth, certain it is a leftover of something he doesn't want to remember.

**adam**

I went somewhere?

**house**

You've been dead for three days.

(House checks his watch.)

Make that four.

**adam**

You don't seem too put out by that.

House grins manically.

**house**

Are you kidding? This is so cool! Here.

House tosses the former corpse a pair of scrubs.

**adam**

Thanks.

Adam slips off the gurney, checking out the room as he pulls on the scrubs.

**adam**

This doesn't look like a morgue…

**house**

University. You were my very own cadaver. I sewed you back up once I noticed your organs were growing back.

Adam continues to check out the room, unconcerned about the medical student behind him.

**house**

You don't seem surprised to be alive or that I'm completely comfortable with the fact that my school project just woke up…

**adam**

Should I be? Which university?

**house**

John Hopkins. I made it possible for you to have this little resurrection above ground by the way. A little thanks wouldn't go amiss.

Adam notices a series of dubious-looking objects floating in jars on the side.

**adam**

Are those my organs in those jars?

**house**

You weren't using them.

Comfortable with his situation, Adam turns to look at his companion properly for the first time.

**adam**

I know you.

**house**

Yep.

**adam**

Okinawa right?

**House**

You died then too.

**adam**

You were younger then…

**house**

Some of us age. What intrigues me is that you don't. Care to explain that?

Adam turns away.

**adam**

Not especially.

House reaches down behind the chair he had been sat on before and pulls out a well used, but lovingly kept, broadsword.

**house**

How about in exchange for this?

Adam darts forward to take the sword, but House gets himself to the other side of the gurney before he can take it.

**House**

You don't want to know where I got this out of.

Adam is light on his feet waiting for an opening to get round the table and tackle House.

**Adam**

I left it under my bed at home.

**house**

I know. There was dirty laundry all over it.

Adam continues to make futile efforts to get round the gurney, House evading him easily.

**adam**

(in defeat)

What do you want to know?

**House**

Everything.

**adam**

No way.

**house**

Then I want to know what you are and why you carry a sword.

**adam**

That is everything!

House smirks in triumph. He knows he will get the information he wants.

**Adam**

Fine, but you can't tell anyone else.

**house**

Why would I want to? I would hardly feel superior if everyone knew.

**adam**

I'm Immortal.

**house**

(scoffing)

Obviously. Get to the good stuff already.


	4. Strangers

Crossover: House/SPN

Characters: Dean, Sam, Cuddy, House, Ducklings, Methos

For prompt: 025 Strangers

Spoilers: set after 1x10 SPN!verse, any time up to end s3 House!verse so could be spoilers for all up to those points.

Warnings: none

Summary: the fourth time Methos was there for something else.

The Winchesters have no medical insurance and an old friend who works at a free clinic…

A/N: fourth in the "5 times House didn't cure Methos" series. Though actually this has very little to do with Methos – it just kind of popped into my brain how to make everything tie up nicely with some other stories in the web!verse..

A/N2: let's pretend the events of Asylum took place somewhere near New Jersey.

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"Whoa! If I knew that's what you were into I would have brought Chase down here with me: two for one special."

Cameron cringed at the sound of House's voice as he burst into the exam room unannounced, Sam and Dean flinching at the sudden intrusion.

"Was there something you wanted?" Cameron asked as her patient and his brother cast a wary eye over her boss.

"Script. I'm out."

"Ask Wilson."

"He's saving a dying kid: asked me not to bother him."

"And you listened?" Cameron asked as she fetched another pack of paper stitches. "What about Cuddy?"

"I thought she was in here – guess you just got lucky."

Sam eyes flicked between his friend and the newcomer. Dean sighed where he lay back on the bed. His shirt had been left on a chair nearby while Cameron neatly cleaned the multitude of small holes in his chest. "Alli? Who is this guy?" Dean croaked.

"'Alli'?" House asked, suddenly more interested in these men.

Flustered, Cameron quickly wrote him the prescription for more Vicodin, thrusting it at him. "Here! Now get out and let me finish."

House looked at her quizzically, before hooking the nearby trolley with his cane and looking into the kidney bowl that was holding whatever had peppered this guy's torso.

"Rock salt?" he asked, "Rock salt shrapnel?"

"Get out, House!"

Cameron pushed him so hard he nearly stumbled, the pain in his leg making him wince before she shut the door in his face. He stood still, breathing slowly and rubbing his leg for a moment before he realised he could hear them clearly through the door.

She had said get out. She hadn't said not to listen in.

"I'm sorry about that," Cameron sighed. "My boss is a jerk sometimes. Actually all the time."

"No problem." That was Salted-Guy. There was something more wrong if he was making that kind of sound, probably an infection…

"Allison, is he going to be ok?" The tall one: Salted-Guy's brother.

"He should be fine. It looks like there's a little bit of infection round some of these entry sites, but that's what happens when you let things fester for three days before treating them. Just be glad you guys aren't regular hunters or you'd be dead about now."

The hiss of indrawn breath. "Don't I know it."

"I'm sorry Dean…"

"Sammy shut up about it already. It wasn't your fault. That ghost was controlling your mind."

"Sounds like an interesting case." House could hear the smile in Cameron's voice. She was ok with them talking about ghosts and mind control? How did she know these two?

Dean started coughing.

"Hey Dean, are you ok?"

"I'm fine," cough, "just having trouble," wheeze, "catching my breath."

"Dean…"

"Dean, try and take a deep breath for me…"

House lurched back into the room, hooking his cane onto the trolley, before snatching up an oxygen mask.

"I've got it House!"

He rolled his eyes. "Sure you do. You," this directed at Dean, "any pain?"

"My head…"

His eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolling back.

"Dean! What can I do?"

House glared at the brother. "You want to help, go get someone who actually knows what they're doing."

Sam nodded mutely and ran out of the room, calling for help.

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"So! Head pain, fever and respiratory distress: go!"

"This also says he was shot?"

Cameron glared at Chase. "That's unrelated."

"Unrelated? He was shot: that generally leads to respiratory distress."

"He was shot four days ago. The respiratory distress you're talking about would have hit a little bit earlier."

"How is this even our case? It sounds like a simple infection. Start him on broad spectrum antibiotics and cut him loose." Foreman dropped the file back on to the table.

"I agree!" Cameron announced, exasperated.

House turned from writing on the white board. "They're your friends. I thought you at least would want to help them."

Cameron sighed as Chase and Foreman looked quizzically at her.

"Chase, Foreman check their home for toxins and infectious agents. Cameron you're with me. Let's see what your buddies have to say."

"Wait, you're actually going to talk to a patient?" Chase asked incredulously as put on his jacket.

"How can I resist?" House said with a malicious grin at Cameron as he held the door of the office open for her.

Cameron sighed angrily, preceding him through the door. "Why are you doing this?" She asked as she stalked off down the hall, House barely managing to keep up.

"Because – I find it interesting."

"That I have friends?"

"That these two are your friends."

They reached Dean's room and Cameron pulled the door open viciously, making Sam start up from where he had been sat on the edge of the bed.

Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets while Dean snickered at his jumpy-ness.

"Allison, what's up?" Sam asked, his eyes flicking to House uncertainly.

Cameron sighed, addressing Dean while House took a seat in the corner, smiling to himself while he watched them together.

"We think you have an infection, probably caused by your wounds festering." She went over to a drawer and pulled out a syringe and an ampoule. "We're going to start you on broad spectrum antibiotics until we can find out exactly what infection it is." She filled the syringe, slipping it into his IV and depressing the plunger. "You should start to feel better soon."

"Thanks Allison," Sam said, looking relieved.

"Yeah, thanks Alli," Dean winced. "Got something for this headache too?"

"Sure."

She fetched another ampoule and injected something new into the IV.

House stood and hobbled over, looking concerned. "How bad a headache? Worse than the salt wounds?"

"Yeah, it is." Dean confirmed, watching House warily. "So?"

"So you got shot in the chest with _salt_ and yet your head hurts more. So either your chest is numb or your head is about to explode."

"What are you-ah!!"

Dean grabbed at his head suddenly.

"Dean?!"

"Hey, Gigantor, move!"

House let his cane drop and quickly moved Sam out of the way, pulling Dean's hands away from his face.

There was blood pouring from his eyes and starting to leak from his ears.

"Oh my God," Cameron ran to supply trolley. "Sam, get out! Nurse! Get him out of here!"

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"So what do head pain and bleeding from the eyes and ears bring to the party?"

"Head pain generally suggests something wrong with the head." Foreman offered.

House turned from writing on the white board. "Thank god we have a neurologist here." House turned back and finished what he was writing. "Unfortunately there are no neurological symptoms, so what else? Find anything at their house?"

"Looks like they've been living out of their car," Chase replied. "Found receipts for about a dozen motels in the ash tray…"

House sensed there was something else. "And?"

Chase and Foreman shared a look, gazes flicking to Cameron.

"What?" She asked.

Chase caved. "We found a load of weaponry in the trunk. Axes, knives, guns…gasoline and a whole load of crazy stuff."

House leant on his cane. "Moderately interesting but not medically relevant."

"If they've got that kind of stuff in their trunk who knows what they're up to?" Foreman rebutted.

"They're not up to anything!" Cameron cried defensively.

"Oh they are definitely up to something but all I care about is anything that can cause him to bleed out of his eyes. Since stabbing and gunshot wounds don't generally do that I don't care." House waddled back and forth as he mused. "What if Foreman was right? What if it's something in his head?"

Foreman went to stand. "I'll get a CT."

"Whoa, whoa! Did I say get a CT?"

Foreman sat back down looking disgruntled.

"Now. What if the infection is causing swelling in his head? Swelling means blood, blood means bleeding…"

"That much blood in his brain would mean he was dead." Cameron stated.

House stopped pacing and eased himself into a chair, holding his leg carefully and wincing as he settled himself.

"Did I say swelling in his brain? No, I said swelling in his head. The blood brain barrier-"

"Even if that were possible there would still have to have been significant trauma to the barrier previously and there's no history…"

"Weren't you just saying they could have been up to anything?"

His crew were silent.

"Right, open up his head and we'll start administering the antibiotics where they are actually needed."

Cameron stood, her hands flat on the table in front of her, her face a mask of anger. "You can't just open up his head! You don't even know whether you're right! And even if you were you could just be putting more stress on an already delicate area!"

House glanced at his other two lackeys and saw their resolve was as set as Cameron's.

He sighed, deeply, regretting encouraging them to grow backbones. "Fine. But you know I'm just going to get Cuddy to approve it anyway."

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"Cuddy! Need to stick an antibiotic reservoir into a patient's head. That's fine right? Good."

House went to shut the door of the exam room behind himself.

"Wh-wait! House! Excuse me."

"No problem."

House paused. He recognised that voice. Cuddy pulled the door out of his hand.

"House what are you talking about? House will you listen to me?"

He wasn't listening to her. He was trying to see round her. There was no way _he_ could be sitting in that exam room.

"You can't just stick things in patients' heads for the fun of it. I assume your team already told you that and that's why you're here? Well I'm going to tell you the exact same thing unless you can give me a damn good reason…"

"You have a team now? You must have done well on that project…"

House found himself grinning as the owner of the voice was confirmed and gently pushed Cuddy out of the way, limping passed her into the exam room.

"What are you doing here?" He asked the patient.

Cuddy looked flustered and a little confused. "Do you two know each other?"

"I do have other friends besides Wilson."

"Since when?"

House was impressed: Cuddy has gone from thrown to smart ass in about five seconds.

Still, the man sat on the examination table was far more interesting. A man that could regrow organs and come back from the dead had no need to be in a clinic.

"You are not ill." House said, absolutely certain of the truth of his statement.

"Mr Pierson has severe anaemia as well as stomach infection. I was just about to admit him."

House met Mr Pierson's eyes. "You, are not ill."

"Sure I am." Adam gave a pitifully fake cough.

Cuddy didn't know what on earth was going on between her patient and the bane of her life, but she didn't care. "House, get out. He is not your patient. Your patient needs to be given time for the antibiotics he's on to work before you start putting stuff in his head."

House turned to her. "So true, but if you don't mind we need to talk: man stuff."

All Cuddy could do was splutter as House ushered her out the door and slammed it in her face.

"So," he hooked the chair in the corner with his cane and dragged it closer, sitting himself down in front of the Immortal. "What's got you opening veins and chugging ipecac just to get yourself in hospital?"

"Hey it took a long time to make myself anaemic enough to get admitted. Do you know how difficult it is to bleed yourself when you keep healing? What happened to your leg?"

"Pulled it poll dancing," House said, uncomfortably. "You didn't answer my question."

"Sam Winchester."

"Salted guy's brother?" House asked, confused. "He's interesting to you why exactly?"

"A lot of reasons. Mostly I want to make sure I'm his teacher once his crazy life gets him killed and he becomes Immortal."

House could tell Adam was being serious, but something still seemed off.

"I've never known you when you've had a student. Why now all of a sudden? Why this kid? I can't imagine you've survived for however long you have by taking on needy cases…"

Adam rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It's complicated. Sam's…interesting."

House could understand how a puzzle could drive you nuts. Seemed like this was going to be Adam's: for this century at least.

"I just want to keep an eye on him," Adam went on. "I lost them for a while and with a life as dangerous as theirs I can't afford to miss a second when Sam could die."

"So…you've been following them?"

Adam didn't like the look in Greg's eyes: he looked entirely too calculating for anything good to come of it. He nodded, uncertain of where this was leading.

"Can you think of anything they've done that might cause Dean to bleed out of his eyes and ears? Head trauma? Anything?"

"Well…there was Bloody Mary." Adam said, remembering the night he had seen them both staggering out of the antique store, blood streaming down their faces. He had been glad Sam hadn't died of that one: an Immortal with no brain left was not a pretty sight.

House looked incredulous. "The urban legend?"

"Ghost actually."

House looked more incredulous.

Adam returned his look. "You're sat here discussing this with man you've seen come back from the dead: twice. Came back after you removed all his organs actually."

"I still have your pancreas."

That put Adam off track. "Why?"

House shrugged resting his chin on his cane where he sat in the chair. "Never got rid of it."

Adam tried to clear the image of his pancreas floating in a jar from his mind. "Anyway…the point is you already know the impossible happens: why not spirits and other nightly nasties?"

"Ok, I'll bite. Tell me about Bloody Mary."

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It was dark outside, the lights in the hospital subdued where they weren't turned off for the night, when House opened Dean Winchester's door with his cane, shutting it carefully and quietly behind him before he approached the bed. Sam was sat in a chair nearby, dozing fitfully, but Dean was awake.

"I'm feeling a lot better, thanks." He whispered.

House nodded and kept his voice low in deference to the sleeping form in the corner…and because he didn't want the whiny, highly-strung brother of the patient making a fuss. "You should be fine. It was just a regular infection after all."

"But… my eyes…?"

"Your line of work you get all kinds of things in your head right? Spirits, demons?"

Dean looked at him sidelong and would have backed off if he hadn't been lying in bed.

"What do you know about it?"

"Not much, but enough. Want to tell me about it?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, man. The less you know the better, trust me."

House sat himself down on a chair, pulling it close to the bed. "I'll tell you something about me: I can't stand not knowing. So why don't you tell me before I have to find out some other way?"

Dean sighed. "You should talk to Sammy, he's the brain of this family."

House snorted derisively. "He's also the girl." House knew he had him when Dean smirked. "So tell me about what you do."

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"You lived in a haunted house?"

Cameron jumped, turning her back on her boss to slip her top on.

"House! This is the women's showers!"

"And you're a woman," he said, helping himself to a seat on the bench next to where Cameron had her bag open. "Guess that's how I knew how to find you here."

Cameron snatched her bag away as he peered into it, hand raised as if to rummage.

House sighed, taking the small defeat easily. "You lived in a haunted house when you were at college. The Winchester boys and their dad killed the spirit and you lived happily ever after with your dying husband."

Cameron zipped up her bag with more force than was necessary and went to leave.

"You know everything House. Congratulations."

As she left, House let his head fall back against the lockers, a smile slowly spreading over his face.


	5. Middles

Crossover: HL/SPN/House

For prompt: 002 Middles

Characters: Sam, Dean, Methos, House, Wilson

Summary: the fifth time Methos needed help for Sam.

A/N: fifth in the "5 times House didn't cure Methos series"

A/N2: my first go at writing screenplay-style! Let me know if it's any good.

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Fade in:

INt. house's apartment continuous – late evening

HOUSE sits playing something gentle on the piano when there is a FRANTIC KNOCK at the door. He considers the sound for a moment while he pops a pill in his mouth then grabs his CANE from where it is leaning against the bookshelf behind him and hobbles to the door.

He opens the door to see DEAN and ADAM (METHOS) supporting SAM, who is obviously in a lot of pain.

**HOUSE**

(in an answer-machine tone)

Sorry I'm not in right now…

He goes to shut the door with the tip of his cane. Adam puts a hand out to stop him.

**Adam**

We need your help.

**house**

I guessed that, but I don't want to help, hence trying to shut the door.

**dean**

Sam's hurt.

**house**

So go to a hospital.

He tries to shut the door again, but Dean pushes passed him into the apartment dragging a groaning Sam in with him. Adam follows more sedately.

**adam**

He's also Immortal.

(sighing and closing the front door behind himself)

The witch doctor we were chasing punched right into his belly. Sam healed fine, but there must be something in there because he's still in pain.

**house**

(incredulous)

Since when do you hunt witch doctors with these two idiots?

**Adam**

(shrugging)

Sounded like a good idea at the time. So are you going to help?

Dean is taking Sam towards the kitchen. House and Adam follow slowly.

**house**

Why don't you just do it? Surgery on an Immortal has got to be the easiest thing in the world: you could go in covered to the elbows in manure with a buzz saw and as long as you stay below the neck you know he'll be fine.

**dean**

Dude, you're talking about my brother!

**House**

(throwing a commiserating glance at Adam)

So you were going to do it but this guy got his protective streak going?

**Adam**

(smirking)

Something like that.

kitchen

House looks between Adam and the brothers. Dean leaves Sam to lean against the counter while he hurriedly clears the island in the middle of the floor of clutter. When he's done he helps Sam to lie down on the moderately clean surface, but his little brother is too tall and his lower legs dangle over the side. Sam GROANS loudly, clutching at Dean. Dean looks imploringly at House.

**house**

(sighing in resignation)

Fine.

He limps over to the side and pulls a large carving knife out of a block.

Stick this in his heart while I get my things.

**dean**

What?!

**house**

What? Trust me you don't want him to feel what I'm about to do.

living room

House makes his way to a bookcase, hooking a small set of steps with his cane and pulling it over. He makes his way up the two steps only with a great deal of pain, but finds what he is looking for on top of the shelf – a METAL BOX - and brings it down with him.

kitchen

Dean has the knife in his hand ready to stab Sam, but has paused. We hear House continuing to move about the rest of the apartment before he enters the kitchen once again carrying the metal box and some towels in one arm.

**house**

I thought I told you to stick that knife in his chest.

**Dean**

…I can't…

**House**

Unless you want him screaming in agony while I root around in his guts you will kill your little brother!

Dean freezes, the knife hovering over Sam's chest.

**Sam**

(hoarsely)

Come on Dean! You've gotta do it!

There is a tense pause while we wait for Dean to move, broken suddenly by Adam.

**Adam**

Oh for God's sake!

Adam snatches the knife from Dean and plunges it into Sam in one fluid movement. Sam gurgles a few times and is still. Dean looks on horrified.

**House**

(smiling)

Now for the really fun part!

House limps over and puts the things he had been carrying on the side with difficulty. He hooks his cane on the edge of the island and starts arranging the towels around Sam, kicking some into place on the floor below his dangling sneakered feet. He opens the metal box to reveal a selection of basic surgical equipment.

**house**

(to Dean)

Now you, keep that knife in deep unless you want him waking up.

House snaps on a pair of surgical gloves.

**dean**

I thought you weren't worried about infection.

**house**

I'm not, but I don't particularly want to get blood and bowel under my nails either. I just had a manicure.

(to Adam)

Get the kid's clothes out of the way, will you?

Adam man-handles Sam, pulling his t-shirt and shirt up and his jeans down as far down as they will go without undoing them. House takes up a scalpel.

**House**

Right, here we go.

House proceeds to cut into Sam's belly, blood welling up to coat the towels but with no heart beat the flow only continues when House moves something.

He's in Sam's guts up passed the length of the gloves, but is working like a practised surgeon despite his comment about the buzz saw earlier. After a while he pulls out something like a tiny burnt stick-figure's hand with a pair of forceps/retractor/other medical implement.

**House**

Got it!

Adam quickly grabs a bowl from the dirty dishes on the side and House gratefully drops the offending article into it. Adam examines what House has found.

**adam**

Wait. This isn't all of it.

(leaning over to show House)

See? The thumb has a claw on it and that finger there has part of one…

**house**

So I'm looking for another three and a half claws. Great. You know this would be a lot easier if he didn't keep trying to heal over my hands too.

House goes back to Sam's open bowels and after a minute pulls out a claw and drops it in the bowl. Dean pushes the knife deeper into his brother's chest with a distasteful look on his face.

A KNOCK can be heard at the front door. When no one responds there comes a voice.

**Wilson (v.o.)**

House? You there?

**House**

Ignore him. Ah!

He drops another claw into the bowl.

There is a RATTLING at the front door as Wilson lets himself in with his key.

Living room

Wilson enters through the front door and shuts it behind himself.

**Wilson**

House I know you're here. Your motorcycle's outside.

Kitchen

Dean turns to House in surprise.

**dean**

That's yours?

**House**

Is this really the time?

Wilson comes to the door of the kitchen and Dean and Adam try to block the view of the dead body on the counter but it's not possible. House removes another claw.

**Wilson**

House what are you doing?!

**house**

Do you mind? I'm trying to concentrate.

Wilson darts round Adam and Dean and moves closer to the scene, where he finally sees exactly what is going on. He gapes in horror.

**wilson**

My god House…you've finally snapped…

**house**

No I haven't…

**wilson**

You're doing surgery on a dead man House!! I'm calling the police.

Adam has him in a half nelson before he can get anywhere near the phone.

**adam**

I think had better stick around for a bit.

Wilson struggles, but can't get free.

Tell me you're almost done Greg.

**house**

I can't find this last bit…

**wilson**

What do you think is going to happen when you're done House? Even you can't bring people back from the dead!

**House**

I know I can't, but these guys…

A little longer and House has it, pulling it out triumphantly before dropping it in the bowl with the rest.

**house**

That should be all of it.

**dean**

Should be?

**house**

He's the one that got a voodoo fetish punched into his stomach. Why can't you two just get stabbed like normal people?

House looks down at the wound as he removes his gloves.

**house**

There he goes.

The wound starts to heal rapidly and Dean moves to take out the knife.

**House**

Not yet. When he wakes up I want to know that any pain is because I missed something, not because he's not done healing yet.

(to Adam)

He heals even faster than you.

**Adam**

Sam is…different. Even for an Immortal.

House looks back at the wound. It's all closed up, but he feels Sam's belly to make sure it's healed inside as well.

**house**

OK, take it out.

Dean jumps to pull the knife out of Sam's chest. Nothing happens.

**wilson**

House you've got to have realised he's not coming…

There's a sharp intake of breath from Sam suddenly and he flops around on the counter for a minute, coughing and spluttering.

**Dean**

Sammy, you ok?

**House**

Hey Gigantor! Any pain in your gut?

Sam takes a moment to focus on what's going on as he sits up.

**Sam**

Huh? No, no I'm fine.

**House**

Good, that means I got all of it.

**Dean**

You sure you're alright?

**House**

Of course he's alright!

House winces as he takes his cane and hobbles slowly to a nearby stool. He's been stood up in one position longer than his leg can really take. He rubs where the muscle used to be as he sits down.

Wilson is numb with shock and Adam warily lets go of him to join his companions.

**adam**

(to Sam)

Next time move faster.

Dean grins at his brother getting chastised by his teacher.

**Adam**

(to Dean)

And next time one of the two of us gets hurt I'm not driving to find a doctor! I'll kill Sam every day if I have to to get it into your head that he can't die! Now let's go. Thanks Greg.

**House**

No problem.

Adam and House know they'll see each other again even if it's not for ten years. Adam, Dean and Sam leave.

**wilson**

He woke up…

**house**

Yup.

**wilson**

(accusingly)

You knew he was going to wake up…

**house**

Yup.

**wilson**

You knew Immortals existed and you didn't tell me.

**house**

I guess so.

Sam pops his head round the door smiling apologetically at Wilson and snatching the bowl with the fetish pieces in it from the counter. He leaves and there is the SOUND of the front door slamming shut.

There is a pause before…

**Wilson**

"Voodoo fetish"?


End file.
